


Give Him An Inch

by verucasalt123



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Discipline, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Humiliation, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike's not paying attention. Wesley temporarily remedies the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'public spanking' prompt at the spanked Spike fic/art-athon.

He’d known it was going to cost him, of course, but sometimes Spike had a spot of malfunction between his brain and his mouth. And then, of course, other times he was just being a brat on purpose, because he couldn’t help himself.

So yes, he was quite aware that there would be punishment coming his way the minute the words slipped past his lips.

His relationship with Wesley was no secret, not even the _particular dynamics_ of it, due to Wesley’s refusal to allow Spike to speak out of turn or really do anything without at the very least looking toward Wes for permission. Angel seemed a bit uncomfortable having it right there in the open, Gunn was instinctively concerned for Spike’s well-being (until he had been reassured repeatedly that this was entirely consensual), Fred just tried to not think about it, mainly because the idea of Spike being submissive to Wesley conjured up all kinds of dirty images in her mind, which was no good at all. Lorne listened in as Wes softly hummed along to R.E.M.’s “Inside Out” playing on his iPod in his office one day, and knew everything immediately, but had no judgment regarding the situation. Human or demon, everyone had their own thing. He briefly thought of an old saying from his childhood in Pylea; loosely translated, “There’s a lid for every pot.” It certainly wasn’t his place to interfere.

Back to where they were, sitting at the conference table in Angel’s Wolfram and Hart office with Gunn and Angel, Wesley had made a suggestion about the latest situation they were dealing with, a negotiation between two warring factions of demons. They were trying to get both sides to compromise. A list of demands from both factions was being read aloud by Angel. Gunn was making notes on his legal pad and Wesley had just started explaining a point he had about mutual concessions when Spike zoned out and leaned back in his chair, propping his boots on the table.

“Spike”, Wesley said, with that commanding tone, glaring without elaborating further. The boots were off the table and back on the floor within a second. 

Wes continued with his theory while Spike tuned it all out again until he got another reprimand from Wesley. “It doesn’t look to me like you’re paying attention.”

So, remember that filter malfunction thing? Yeah. “It’s all just so bloody boring, Wes”, he replied, adding a subtle eye-roll before realizing what he’d just done. 

Wesley composed himself as the others present in the office desperately attempted to wish away Spike’s words. They knew Spike had just done something wrong, and that never ended well. Spike himself was trying to wish them away, as he saw the look in Wesley’s eyes, then watched as he stood from his chair.

“I apologize for Spike’s poor attitude, and for you having to be present for this most unfortunate incident. Please look away if you’re uncomfortable, or feel free to watch, whichever you choose. Spike, get up and bend over the back of your chair. _Now._ ”

Spike was incredulous at this point. Yeah, he knew it, he’d fucked up and there would be a consequence. But not here! Here, in front of everyone? It wasn’t right, but he had no desire to make this any worse than it already was, and talking back would certainly do that. After a moment of stunned silence during which he hadn’t moved, he heard Wesley’s voice again. “I believe you’ve just made me tell you twice to do the same thing.”

“I…no, I’m sorry, just…not here, in front of everyone, please? When we get home, can’t it just wait? _Please?_ ”, Spike beseeched him, but Wesley was having none of it.

“If you can misbehave that way in front of our friends, then you can damn well take your punishment in front of them as well. Do as I said, Spike.”

If he could have blushed bright red, he would have, but he just avoided the looks on their coworkers’ faces as he stood and moved behind his chair, holding on to the arms with his head cast down toward the seat.

As their mortified coworkers watched him remove his belt, Wesley asked Spike in an incredibly casual tone, "And why am I having to take my belt off for you this time, Spike?" 

“For not paying attention when you were talking, and because I was disrespectful.”

Wesley smacked Spike once with his belt. “And?”

It only took a second before he got it. “And because I didn’t get up when you told me to.” God, he hoped that was the right answer. 

“Correct. I will do as you asked and punish you when we get home. However, you will have a preview of your punishment now. Here.”

Angel and Gunn put all of their effort into looking at anything except what was happening at the end of the table as Wesley quickly brought the belt down again across Spike’s ass several more times. Spike was silent until the sixth stroke, when he finally cried out from the pain and the embarrassment. 

Gunn winced in sympathy. It wasn’t like he’d never had a belt taken to his backside before, but it sure as hell hadn’t ever happened when he was an adult, and certainly not with a damn audience. Wesley stopped after ten, at which point Spike was close to tears. 

As he slid his belt back through the loops, he told Spike to stand up and asked if he had anything to say. “Angel, Charlie, sorry I disrupted the meeting”, Spike mumbled, looking at the floor. The other two men, of course, responded with their own mumbles that sounded like something along the lines of “It’s all right, don’t worry about it.”

Wesley spoke again. “Let’s get back to work, please, and I’ll ensure there will be no more interruptions.” With just a small gesture and a nod of his head in Spike’s direction, his way of ensuring the same thing would not happen again was made clear. Spike was still shaking and completely mortified, but when he realized what Wesley expected, his stomach sank. Not wanting to make things worse, though, and remembering that his punishment was not over, he followed Wesley’s silent instruction and walked away from the table to stand facing the wall on the other side of the room, hands clasped behind his back and completely still. 

Gunn and Angel were still shifting their eyes around uncomfortably, but when Wes joined them again, they were both exceptionally attentive for the remainder of the discussion. 

Once the meeting had been concluded, Gunn got out of there as quickly as he could. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Angel”, Wesley said, “but you know as well as I do that you can’t give Spike an inch or he’ll take a yard.”

“Yeah, Wes, I know. Just…take him out of here. Whatever it is that’s going on once the two of you are gone, I don’t want any details, all right?”

“Of course. I apologize again for having our meeting disrupted, and for placing you and Charles in an _awkward_ situation. I’ll take care of Spike at home, and this won’t happen again, I give you my word”, Wesley responded, his gaze wandering over to where Spike was still standing with his nose in the corner like a child. 

The look in Wesley’s eyes at that moment convinced Angel that Spike wouldn’t be interrupting any more staff meetings. He still had his memories, and though Angelus was buried deep inside his soul, the things he’d done to ensure Spike’s obedience more than a century ago were crystal clear. Angel shuddered at the thought, but then he knew that even if Wes was going to punish Spike, he wasn’t going to torture or starve him like Angelus had.

“Go on then, take him home. You'll be back for the conference, though, right?" Angel needed Wes for that, knew he'd be lost without Wesley's peacekeeping skills. 

"Of course I will. I won't be more than an about an hour. Will that work with the schedule?"

"Yeah, that's fine, Wesley. Do what you need to do, and then just get back here, okay?"

"Don't worry, we'll have all this sorted by that time."


	2. Inside Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the evening with Spike and Wes, along with many of their other co-workers, some of whom are amused by Spike's lack of ability to sit comfortably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the last scene, for the same fic and art-athon.

Still looking straight down at the carpet, Spike turned to follow Wesley out of Angel’s office when he was directed to do so. Angel was sitting at his desk, not looking at either of them, and the door clicked shut behind them softly.

When he did chance a look up, what he saw was the last thing he wished for – Harmony, standing at her station by the phones, giving him a sympathetic little smile. Goddamnit, she’d heard the whole thing, Spike thought, of course. He looked around a little more, grateful to see there wasn’t anyone else standing around the immediate area, certainly no one with Harmony’s heightened sense of hearing, anyway. 

He must have slowed down while he was casing the lobby, because Wesley looked back at him with impatience. “Keep moving, Spike, your dawdling isn’t going to get you out of any trouble.” Spike immediately sped up to follow Wes more closely, but he knew Harmony would have heard that part, too. Bugger all. Bad enough that Angel and Charlie had seen him spanked and sent to the corner, he certainly could have done without Harmony’s pitying glances. No time to worry about it now, though, and nothing could be done to change it. Just like nothing could be done to change the fact that what he’d experienced just half an hour earlier would likely pale in comparison to what was waiting for him once they walked the four blocks back to their place.

Anticipation was, many times, one of the worst parts of being punished, so Spike figured he ought to be glad he’d have it overwith so quickly. At least then he could spend the rest of the night watching his CW shows and feeling sorry for himself while Wesley returned to the office for the conference he’d heard Wes discussing with Angel. 

Once inside their apartment, Wesley didn’t waste a moment. He was a stickler for punctuality (another lesson Spike had learned the hard way, months earlier), and there was no way he was going to allow his responsibility to Spike interfere with his obligation to turn up to his next meeting on time.

“Turn around and look at me, Spike”, Wes said evenly as soon as they were in the door. Spike looked up right away and was immediately met with a sharp backhand to his left cheek, which he took almost without flinching, and with only the slightest sting of wetness in his eyes. Being slapped like that was humiliating, even without anyone around to see it. Wes hit hard, too, enough that there would be a mark, even if only for a couple of hours. “How dare you put me in a position to have to discipline you like that, while we’re working and in front of other people? I don’t know what you were thinking, but I’m going to make damn sure this is something that does not happen again. _Ever_. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Wesley, I’m sorry, honestly, I really didn’t think-”

“You not thinking, yes, that much was clear from the way you behaved. I know you think you got the worst of it, you’re embarrassed that I belted you at the office, but how do you think it makes me feel? Makes me _look_? Everyone knows you’re expected to do as I say, and you just put it on display that maybe doing as I say isn’t so important to you.”

Those words were totally not what Spike expected, and they hurt more than the slap to his face. “No, Wesley, please, don’t say that. It is important to me, really, I am so very sorry, I never meant to make you think that, to make anyone think that, I swear.”

At that point, Wesley sighed and responded, “I suppose you didn’t. But that’s how it looked, regardless. Now, go on to the bedroom. You know what to do, strip and lie on the bed, face down. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Dejected, Spike did as he was told, and true to his word, Wesley was there next to him within a minute or two. “Do I need to restrain you, Spike? Or can you be still for this?”, he asked, as he once again reached to remove his belt. 

“I can be still. I promise.”

“Let’s hope so. We haven’t got a lot of time and I don’t want to have to keep starting over because you can’t maintain your position.”

With that, the talking ceased and the whipping began. Wesley’s belt fell over and over again across Spike’s bottom and the backs of his legs. Spike held on for dear life to the bedding underneath him, but as promised, he did not move as the blows kept coming, even after he was outright crying and begging Wesley to stop, swearing never to misbehave in any way, **ever again, ever, not ever**. 

Finally, Wesley dropped the belt and sat down on the bed. “There now, darling, you did so well”, he said, carding his fingers through Spike’s hair. “I’ll give you a minute to catch your breath, but then I want you to take a shower and get dressed so we can get back to the office.”

Spike froze, then looked up at Wesley with a puzzled expression. “You want me to go with you to your conference?” He really had been looking forward to wallowing in self-pity alone at home for a while after all this. And he wasn’t needed for this meeting, he knew that. 

“Yes, I want you to attend. I’m going to give you an opportunity to make up for your earlier misbehavior.”

 _Oh, how fucking kind of you, Wesley_ , Spike thought, but obviously didn’t say. So much for his plan to drown his sorrows in raunchy telly and a few beers. He knew this was a test, though, and it really was a way for him to redeem himself, so he just got up and did as he was told. 

The short walk back to the office gave him his first clue. He was a bit stiff, the fabric of his clothing against his abused skin making him move very carefully. He already knew there was a bruise on his cheek. It was small but there was no way it wouldn’t be noticed.

Settling back down around the conference table in Angel’s office, they were joined again by Charlie and Angel, who avoided looking at him. It was obvious that Charlie’s hackles were up a bit once he saw the bruise on Spike’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Now, though, they had been joined by Fred, Lindsey and Lorne as well. And of course, to add in just a little extra humiliation, Harmony was sitting with them, ready to take down notes to be typed up later. 

As everyone was gathering, Spike tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position in his chair, but it was impossible. It was also, apparently, obvious. Fred leaned over and whispered in Charlie’s ear, probably thinking she was quiet enough for Spike not to know what she was asking. “What’s wrong with Spike? He’s all squirmy and not looking at anyone. And he’s got-” When Charlie just gave her a look that clearly telegraphed _don’t ask_ , she guessed immediately what must have happened. One of the few childhood experiences she and Gunn shared was the impossible task of trying to sit still after having received a sound spanking. She shut up and tried to focus on the agenda for tonight’s staff meeting. 

Harmony gave him another sympathetic look, and Lorne just patted him on the shoulder as he walked past, but it was clear that he knew, too. Lindsey just shot a smirk and a fake pouty-face at him from across the table. Unfortunately, Wesley’s quiet warning for Spike to be still came too late. By then, everyone in the room knew he’d just been punished. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“All right, let’s get started. Harmony, are you ready to begin taking all this down?”, asked Angel.

“You got it, boss. Ready when you are”, she replied with a bright smile.

Spike could only hope his lack of ability to sit comfortably would not make it into the minutes.


End file.
